We found a spring on an island, and we drank from it–a mug was hanging from a branch nearby. There were baby salamanders in the water, and the sand on the bottom was bubbling. This was after a foggy night spent beside a lighthouse, and a foghorn, and waves. It was nice to find that this trapdoor led to water even after having slept beside so much of it.
It was also reassuring to see that there’s a ground beneath the ground, and between the grounds, there’s space. (Reassuring like when you drop an egg, and it breaks.) I’d like to keep moving through the ground, occupying different spaces along the way. If I moved in more than one direction at once, that would be fine–then I wouldn’t have to make up my mind.